It snowed so long we forgot
The taste of sun, the feel
Of honey soft upon our lips
Left to savor our own cracked blood
A fractured winter, to chill our threadbare bones
(Tired with the grief of so much taking)
Shellshocked soldiers cradling broken arms
(Joy to the mirthless, flowers on a dying day)
And then, here is a wonder
(Giving gold for spent brass casings)
Ours is a retching world
(A mote, an empty hulk)
The pus inside our skulls, our sum
(Gone, and how quickly forgotten)
And entropy boils out as sewage in the gutter
(A mote in the drowning void)
We are prescient
(I know I know I should have known)
With the alcohol of August spilled upon the floor
(Ignore the need to pacify the want)
Our bright eyes seek the dark
(I know I should have known)
But the Seer, shallow and tired,
(Time is a murky pool, and the bottom near)
Liquid with the drugs of this rotting age,
(This, the witching hour)
Has gone snowblind
(Oh, the bottom rests so near)
Not sand, not silt nor withered rock
(Not sand but merely ashes)
The fires that drove have outpaced us
(And only enough to smother)
The promise of a quiet end
(Ashes ashes ashes)
Come forth and I will show you life
(Acquisition damns us)
Life at the end of the end
(Submission saves)
A calm in the empty murk
(Submission alone saves)
